A brief, semi-drunken update

I spoke to K on the phone the other day. I miss him. I forgot how much I love his stories and how he alwasy seems to give me a much needed kick in the ass and remind me about what's important.

In 7 days I will be unemployed. I'm not too worried.

DC was a great time. I forgot how much I missed chillin' with my Bama broads.

Tonight I've chosen to stay in. I'm sipping on cheap wine and listening to Golden Smog's Down By The Old Mainstream and waiting for Joe to come home. This album is making me all nostalgic and meloncholy....and makin' me smile. Pecan Pie, Redheaded Step Child, Yesterday Cried...damn it's all so good. Gary Louris makes me swoon. I feel as if everything slows down when I listen to it. Time, life...maybe it's just the wine...at any rate, it's nice. I like it.

Tomorrow is Saturday and it will be 68 degrees. I will be traipsing around the city in a jacket, there will be fleamarkets, street eats, sunshine, Joe...it will be a good day.

I just met Julianne Moore.

She is writing a children's book and just came into our office. Big head, tiny body but uber-nice. I would die for her hair color (though it's probably L'Oreal-ified.)

This morning could get interesting....

I'm currently drinking a "detox" herbal tea.



Also, the Drive-By Truckers show is tomorrow!Woohoo!

Best. Birthday Weekend. Ever.

Here's a "best botched surprise party ever" birthday recap for any of you who are intersted. I'll post pictures tonight probably.

So Friday was an extremely shitty day. The weather sucked and I had been receiving emails all throughout the day from my friends saying they wouldn't be able to join my planned b-day gathering at the beer garden (for various reasons). I was bummed and by the end of the day I just wanted to home and take a nap but Joe told me to meet him at his office after work and we would go to our favorite adult toy store (ha!) and he'd buy me a gift. After schleping through the rain and through the obnoxiously tourist-friendly and very crowded neighborhood in which he works, I arrived even more disheveled and pissed, but instead of heading home to get out of my extremely soggy jeans, he told me that we couldn't go home yet and that we were going to pick up my birthday cake. Cake? What? I was even more upset (but admittedly excited about eating a Mrs. Fields cookie cake with my name on it). After throwing a fit, Joe informed me that we were NOT going to the beer garden at all and that he had planned a surprise gathering (well, sort of) at a BBQ joint in the city and later told all my friends to meet us at this honky-tonk bar RODEO for cheap beer and country music. I was shocked (and kind of pissed that he ruined the surprise) but it was awesome and everyone showed. The Pink House girls FINALLY reunited. And even if he did ruin his own precisely planned surprise for me, Joe totally gets a gold star for this. And the cookie cake was incredible (the BBQ..it was okay...)

Saturday night Chewy took me to get the mani/pedi combo and we partied till the wee hours at the annual Kick Ball. Get it? It was surprisingly fun and my feet still hurt from all the dancing.

On Sunday Joe made me a fab frittata for breakfast (with a very stiff screwdriver on the side) and we headed down to Atlantic Ave. in Brooklyn for the largest street fair of the bourough. No open-container laws, loads of cheap beer and street meat. Needless to say, we spent the entire day there getting hammered and eating delicious shwarma sandwiches. Joe also bought a marionette. Don' ask. Anyway, I think we stopped by McCarren park to say hi to some kickballers before trekking back home, but I can't even remember that much. We did eventually arrive home and proceeded to take advantage of some drugs and more booze and I think I literally passed out at 11:30 p.m. It was a perfect day. And weekend.

Absolutely Gorgeous

The weather, that is. Today I suddenly remembered why September (for the most part) and October are my absolute favorite months here in the city.

Despite the fact that today is the 5-year anniversary of "that day" (which in my opinion is being completely overplayed/overcapitalized/overmarketed here but that's another post entirely).

The air is no longer thick, dirty, and wet with humidity and hot sweaty bodies, but cool, crisp and clean(or at least it feels that way) and most of all vibrant. It marks the only two months that are completly bearable weather-wise...just enough chill in the air to make you forget the dreadful heat and just warm enough to make you forget the bone-chilling, god-awful cold winter that's well on its way. I love it and I think it's even better than that window of good weather in the Spring. Plus my birthday is Sunday and this cooler weather also means more nights spent sipping on pilsner at the beer garden. It helps that the tunes on my iPod this morning reminded me of this time last year when I first became so completely smitten for Joe that my mind couldn't focus on anything other than feeling giddy, refreshed, and taking in every single moment for the moment's sake--cause times like those don't happen often (to me at least). I'm totally looking forward to spending entire weekends (once again) galavanting around the city on foot, with a hot coffee, a Fall-friendly coat, the smell of leaves, and my cheeks pink from the chilly air. It totally makes the pending unemployment factor of my life disappear--at least for the moment.

Turning a New Leaf...er..something like that.

I just told my boss I'm quitting. What's done is done, and I refuse to look back. She said I could've been a good agent, but I'm not so sure. I think I need the enviornment, creativity, and pace of a magazine job. Plus I need more money. That's a priority right now. I have to find someone to replace me and train them (that alone takes two full weeks) but I think I'll be out of here by the end of the month. Hopefully having this gig on my resume will lead to bigger things...or at least an ENJOYABLE job without a batshit crazy boss, better pay, and more fulfilling daily obligations (read: not having to dispose of the goddamn garbage and water the plants). I should feel relieved but I feel kind of shitty.

My temp agency has put me back into the computer and my freelance editor has offered to give me more assignments so it might not be that bad after all. Now if only I could get that insurance....

This shit is hilarious!

From my favorite snarky broads over at GoFugYourself (www.gofugyourself.typepad.com):

"When Intern George isn't rubbing our feet, scrawling "Mr. George Fug Girls" on his Trapper Keeper, or peeling grapes that he then feeds us from a silver platter -- as we lounge on our chaises and swoon, "Dahling, WHITHER the fug today, I shall simply PERISH if Mischa Barton doesn't soon leave the house in a Value Village tee!" -- we sometimes let him answer our mail. And today, we decided to let him print some of his answers. We swear on all things holy (so, on George himself) that these are all VERY real e-mails we've received at GFY HQ, with names removed to protect the somewhat innocent.

E-mail #1

"You people are f***ing disgusting pieces of sh*t. Why do you have such an obsession with look's? Your f***ing inhumane creatures. Fugly? Good one! Look's dont last hunnie! It doesn't matter what we look like ok? What matter's is who we are as a person. I dont think anyone should be on this stupid f***ing site. Your site is disgusting, inhumane, rotten, cruel, full of lies, bullsh*t, random, stupid, ugly, and...HAHA! FUGLY TOO!

GET A LIFE YOU MORON'S! EAT SH*T AND CHOKE ON IT YOU DIRTY PIGS! I HATE YOU! DUMBASS'! GO BLOW A GOAT!"

Dear Friend,

You are upset. Let me hold you. It will be so very soothing. Then we can talk together about how I am living proof that good looks last, and last forever.

But, don't insult pigs. They're really very smart, sweet creatures -- loyal, great pets, and very tasty for breakfast once they're too old to be loyal, great pets. I could never betray one with a goat dalliance and I'm shocked you would ask such a thing of me.

Kisses,

G

E-mail #2

"wat up paris um... i was just wondering if u could send me a sighning ! NOT U FAT HOOKER SLUT HOOR BITCH !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1"

Dear Friend,

You seem angry. Let me hold you.

Also, Paris Hilton is many things, but "fat" isn't one of them, okay? Let's not bog down our communication with deceit. That will only hurt us in the end. True love cannot prosper on a foundation of LIES.

Cuddles,

G

E-mail #3

"How the f**k could you say all of those mean and harsh things about Jessica Simpson???? You must just be jealous cause you know you can never look that good!! I do have to admit i hate how she has been betraying herself lately with maxim and other things ,but still i would like for you to respond back to me what you really hate about jesscia simpson i know you have already said everything but do it again if you hate her so much!!! "

Dear Friend of Jessica Simpson,

I don't know -- I think I look pretty good, sweet lady, and I think you'd agree. So let's not sully our time together with random insults, or hate, or talk of what's wrong with Ms. Simpson -- the details of which you already know, and which so aggrieved you that I can't believe you want them repeated.

No, let's make a little space in time that's just you, me, my villa in Lake Como, and my warm, warm embrace. Instead of getting upset, just let me hold you. I am quite dapper and I smell fantastic.

Smiles,

G

E-mail #4

"hey whaaaaaaats ur you fugers. "

Dear Friend,

I'm not sure I understand the question. But if you're upset, I recommend just looking at my picture for a few minutes and your blood pressure will drop like a stone.

In suavitude,

G

E-mail #5

"you must be really fameis can you call me here is my phone number [REDACTED] "

Dear Friend,

Now, here is where I must breach my calm facade -- although I would very much like to fix this with a hug, I must ask: What are they teaching the youth of today, that people are e-mailing their telephone numbers to strangers on the Internet? Are we still beset by that plague? Have the stories of tragedy in People magazine taught no one of these evils?

Listen to Hip, Hot Uncle George, kids: I don't want you to send personal information to people you don't know. It's not safe and I WILL NOT HUG YOU if this persists. Do you hear that? Go sit in the corner and think about a life without my soothing arms, and I know you'll do the right thing.

A very stern -- but also loving -- frown,

G "

I call shennanigans

State Fair Pictures

http://s9.photobucket.com/albums/a77/daniellemcclure80/NY%20State%20Fair%202006/

What you should be reading:

You know, for the irony and what have you....

http://www.hipsterotica.com/

The Greater New York State Fair Recap

First, fun with numbers!

Number of full days attended at the fair: 2

Number of various types of fried foods consumed: 10

Number of exotic animals consumed: 2

Number of beers consumed: 30

Number of wine/sangria slushies consumed: 3

Number of freaks spotted: 100

Number of said freaks with "Lobster-boy claw": 0

Number of meth-mouths spotted: 20

Number of people I offended at the fair: 3 (at least)

Number of different farm animals seen: 6

Number of butter sculptures seen: 1

Number of Foreigner songs I know the words to: 7

Number of Foreigner song lyrics I now know how to sign-for-the-deaf to: 2

Number of Grand-Funk Railroad songs I know the words to: 1

Number of strippers seen: 15

Number of strippers who rubbed their junk up on my 'tatas: 1

Number of headshops visited in Syracuse: 1

Amount of money spent on midway carney games: $20

Number of joints smoked on ferris wheel: 1

Number of blisters on my feet from walking at the fair: 1

Number of times a mall was visited: 1

Number of hours wasted playing Guitar Hero on PS2: 6

Number of times I played Guitar Hero on PS2: 2

Number of times I watched others play Guitar Hero on PS2: 1,000 +

Number of times I heard "Godzilla", "Cowboys from Hell" and "Bark at the Moon" because of others playing Guitar Hero on PS2: infinity.

Number of times I wanted to destroy a PS2 game console due to the over-usage of Guitar Hero: 5

Number of days it will take me to get "Bark at the Moon" out of my head: 3 (at least)